Her Blue Flame
by LTPugh
Summary: A choice by Squad 7 keeps the most important person in Selvaria Bles' life alive. What else may change as this firebreak changes the direction of her Blue Flame?
1. Chapter 1

Her Blue Flame

"The hour of your death shall mark the inauguration of our rule. Farewell Selvaria."

It was with these words that one of the most powerful people in Europa was crushed. Her life destroyed as surely as by any bullet, shell or blade.

Radi Jaeger watched as Selvaria collapsed to her knees, tears appearing around the corners of her eyes. Radi had seen many things from Selvaria in the time he had known her, undying loyalty, fierce protectiveness, a firm sense of pride and even on occasion embarrassment. But never once had he seen her cry, not even when she had been wounded such that no other person could have survived. To him, it was just wrong, especially since the one who had made her cry, Prince Maximillian had done it so coldly, so cruelly. He understood the need for royal distance, an Imperial bearing. But to see someone crushed so effortlessly, so emotionlessly, one who had given everything that they possibly could, it made him crumble that much more inside.

But there was little he could do, even as Maximillian strode away from Selvaria, towards him.

"Can't say that I'm impressed your Grace. Making a lady cry?" Less than impressed was an understatement, but there was only so much leeway Radi had with Maximillian, even as the soon to be only survivor of his Drei Stern.

"This is simply one of a number of scenarios we'd planned for since before Naggiar. If her prowess as a Valkyria is insufficient, Selvaria's uses quickly narrow down to one alone." Maximillian spoke with the same cold tone he had used on Selvaria, his words surely carrying to her even as he spoke like she was no longer in the room.

"Hmph," Jaeger couldn't help himself. He had always known the Prince was a cold bastard, but now, when the chips were down and things were going against him, Jaeger saw how truly cold he was. But he still had a duty to do. "Anyway, there's a messenger here for you straight from castle Randgriz."

Maximillian glanced at Jaeger. "So there is. Let him wait. I have no time for simple messengers now. We are set to commence Operation Steel Scythe. Jaeger, prepare to return back east."

Jaegers eyes opened at this. "What?! Then it's…the Marmota's finished?!" Radi was shocked, the Marmota was a highly experimental vehicle, last he had heard it was going to be at least a few more weeks before it would be ready. But clearly something had galvanized the Empire into completing it ahead of schedule.

"It is. Word has come that it has completed its trial run. The Gallians are hasty to assume victory. We shall see them gutted yet." Jaeger couldn't help but notice the bare hint of satisfaction that crept into Maximillian's voice, an eagerness that crept out from behind his façade. Jaeger understood fighting, he was good at it no doubt. But he had never been eager to simply kill or destroy his enemy for the sake of it like Maximillian or Gregor.

As Maximillian strode away, Jaeger held his tongue, fearful that he might say something he would regret. With the Marmota ready, there was little need for Selvaria's sacrifice, it was nothing more than Maximillian's desire to see all wiped out before him that necessitated her loss. It was even more senseless than before.

Glancing back towards the still kneeling, still trembling Valkyria…no, she was a woman now, no different than his wife back home, Jaeger felt regret, sadness, a myriad of things that he could neither reconcile nor fix.

"I'm sorry," he said, words ringing true, but carrying the hollowness of one unable to do anything for the other. Striding out of the room, he hit upon an idea, one that was probably the only salvation he could hope to offer the woman. But it would still be a longshot, one that needed to come from within herself. Strides lengthening as he moved down the corridor, Radi Jaeger prepared to risk it all on a gamble once again.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Johann Oswald Eisen, better known as Oswald the Iron to most, sprinted through the halls of the captured Gallian citadel, ignoring the pain in his side, fellow soldiers and their shouted curses as he ran to his general's side. Despite being critically wounded in the fight for the industrial city of Fouzen several weeks earlier, Oswald had survived and pulled through on luck, stubbornness, lots of ragnaid and for one other reason, which he kept to himself. The day when he would be taken her might eventually come, he knew that all too well, but it was not one that he would let come willingly.

So when General Jaeger had come to him and told him that General Bles needed him immediately, he had almost sprinted out the door despite his still sore body before the man could finish giving him the message. General Jaeger had grabbed his arm before he could though, forcing him to stop and look him in the eye.

"She's already given it once," he had told him, "Make sure she doesn't give it again."

Oswald was unsure as to what exactly his General had given before, but he knew that if she needed him, there was only one place that he could be and that was by her side. Climbing the last set of stairs to the war room, his now well trained mind noted the lack of guards, meaning that Prince Maximillian had left. Dashing the last few yards to the door, he nearly skidded past it as he tried to stop, his armor clanking slightly as he bruised himself against the frame.

Catching his breath for only a second, Oswald opened the door and strode inside.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Selvaria Bles trembled and cried as her world burned around her with a bright blue flame. She barely knew where she was, much less how much time had passed since Prince Maximillian, His Grace, her love, had told her so cruelly, so mercilessly to end her own life for his glory. Selvaria normally would have had no qualms giving her life for him. But in this way, how he had said it, how she had to do it…

She hadn't moved, probably wouldn't have moved for quite a bit of time more had someone not opened the door. As she heard it open hastily, she almost panicked. She was not in any state to be viewed by her troops, especially any of the officers that might conceivably be coming up here.

"General! General, sir, are you alright!?" she heard a familiar voice call, rapid footsteps approaching her from the entrance.

That voice…it was a brief respite for her in that sea of blue flame, a rock to cling onto as she drowned in her sorrow.

She knew that voice, had heard those words before. Even as she felt someone reach out, touch her shoulder with a warm hand, she relaxed as she remembered the voice and its owner. Eisen. Johann Oswald Eisen. She couldn't help but smile just a tiny bit inside of herself at the memories. He had been so scared the first time he had met her, back before the first battle for Ghirlandio, back before her defeat, before everything had gone wrong. He was such a timid little mouse initially, but one with a lions heart inside. As she had discovered personally just shortly afterwards.

The initial assault had gone swimmingly, her men holding off the Gallian counter-attack while she and Oswald had breached the perimeter on the other side, forcing them to withdraw. But then he'd collapsed from exhaustion and terror like a new recruit. She'd let him recover in her tent for a little before going out on the final clean up sweep. But then that pig of a Gallian General had broken all human decency and gassed them with chemical Ragnite from the last war.

She'd almost died from the gas and probably would have if not for Oswald. He'd been reckless, running out ahead of the rest of the rescue forces, dodging Gallian fire as he moved between the fallen men of her squad, injecting them with the anti-toxin even as bullets flew by his head. He'd reached her last, shielding her as they'd exchanged words, his hands opening the neck of her uniform so that he could inject her as well. She remembered that, remembered as he spoke comforting words, telling her she was not alone, that he'd always be there, just as she'd told him.

She'd told that to many soldiers, any assigned to her that she could see flagging. Most of them took heart from her words, believing in her strength. A few had even said it back to her, like Oswald had. The funny thing was she was pretty sure he was the first to have actually meant it for her.

He'd proved it too. After the battle, after his Order of the Iron Star, after saving her life, he could've been assigned anywhere, could've requested any posting he wanted. But over the dinner she'd made him, when she had asked again, he'd simply shook his head and said that he'd be by her side, like she wanted him to be. She'd smiled just a little then, glad to have a reliable soldier at her back.

But it had changed, what they shared. At first he had simply been a reliable if occasionally quirky subordinate of hers. Beyond their joint battle at Ghirlandio, they'd had little truly in common. But that was enough, a seed for something more. As the blitz had pushed through Gallia, they'd become a team, a walking nightmare for the Gallian's they'd faced.

But as weeks and then months had gone by, she'd found herself more and more comfortable around him. On the battlefield, in camp, on the march, he'd been by her side every moment she needed him and sometimes when she didn't, just to keep her company. She'd never had that before. Sure, there would be reports and officers regularly, but nobody came to talk to her because they felt like it, it was only because of duty.

But Johann did. He was just there, smiling at her when he'd notice her glance to make sure he was still there when on the march, watching over her on the rare times she slept and simply holding conversation with her when it was appropriate. It wouldn't have been much to most people, but to her it was as precious as any gem.

It had gotten to the point where she actually found herself mildly uncomfortable if she didn't know where he was, both on and off the battlefield. The other men had noticed too, taken to calling him "The Witches Pet," due to the amount of time he spent with her. He'd just laughed when she told him about it, like she'd expected him too. She'd never actually told him, but she hated the moniker. She knew what it was like to be treated like an animal, like nothing. She would never treat her worst enemy the way she had been treated in that place. The thought of treating Johann like that…she'd rather slit her own throat. Even after Barious, when she'd unleashed her true power for the first time, he'd simply treated her the same way he always had. Not as a curiosity, not like a General or even a Valkyrur, beyond when it was expected, but simply as a person. It was after that that she'd realized something, something very important.

He was her friend. The only real one she'd ever had. And it was also then that she'd decided she wouldn't let anything take that from her.

Then… Fouzen.

She hadn't wanted to let him go. But she hadn't had anyone else trustworthy enough to send after Barious, too many transfers and new faces. He'd be fine; he'd said with the reassuring voice she'd gotten used to, it was just a message delivery. Just a message delivery, the very thought now made her stomach churn. He'd been caught up in the first wave of the Militia's assault on the city, still on his way to see Gregor. Five rounds; he'd taken five rounds through his armor, one of which had almost hit his carotid artery. The Gallians had left him for dead, being in a hurry as they were. It was only as the last remnants of the garrison had been running that they'd found him, three quarters dead, pale as a ghost and hanging on only because he'd somehow managed to use the extra Ragnaid he'd always carried for her since switching to the frontlines..

He shouldn't have made it. He almost hadn't, the surgeons hadn't even wanted to operate on him when they'd brought him in three days later. Too far gone they'd said. She'd told them exactly how for she would go and precisely where they would go if they didn't do their very best to save him. She was pretty sure one of them had shat himself as she did so, glowing blue with the flame of the Valkyrur, but she hadn't cared. She'd just wanted Oswald alive and back by her side.

He'd made it. He'd made it by the skin of his teeth, but between his stubborn refusal to die and the doctors doing their best to help him, he'd made a recovery so miraculous that the doctors had nearly decided her Valkyrur powers had rubbed off on him. Still, it had taken him nearly a week to wake up, with her visiting as often as was practical between her duties and meeting with Jaeger and His Grace. She remembered how she'd almost cried when she'd seen that smile for the first time after he'd woken, even strained and tired as it was. She'd only held back by the fact that there were others in the room.

She had cried when she got back to her tent. She'd cried tears of happiness for the first time that she could remember. She hadn't realized how deeply she'd come to rely on him, how important he was to her, until he'd nearly died. She'd partly known, but it was only as her tears dropped to the bare ground of her tent that she'd realized that she cared about Johann almost as much as she did His Grace.

The thought scared her. The thought that she might care about, might…might…she couldn't even think it, that she might feel the same about two different men equally scared her immensely. The two men and her feelings for both were so different. Her feelings about and the actions of His Grace was like a pillar of flame, burning brightly with an intensity that would undoubtedly end in the burning of whatever was in their path. While Johann…Johann and what she felt around him were much different. They were merely warm, not blazing, more comfortable and easy to be around, like a fire on a cold winter's night. What did that mean? What did she really feel about His Grace? Was her whole life a lie?

She had not managed an answer that night or any of the nights since, the only thing she had managed to find in herself was an unwillingness to let either side of her feelings go, up until Naggiar, up until her defeat.

The battle had been going well; victory was in sight despite some setbacks. The incompetence of the Gallian army's high command had helped significantly no doubt, but it was her contributions that had been turning the tide decisively. Then the other, the Gallian Valkyria had shown herself.

Her defeat had been a horrendous blow to Imperial morale, she knew this. In the end it proved enough to allow the Gallians to break their lines and push them back to here, Ghirlandio. But what it had also shaken was His Grace's belief in her. It had shaken his mask, allowing her to see what she had seen pointed at so many others pointed at her. It was the gaze of one looking at an object with which they believed carried little value, not even worth the time to pretend that the owner of the gaze cared about it, much less that they believed it was worthy of being treated as a person.

That was what scared her now. The possibility that he had never cared for her, had never thought of her as a person. That she had spent her entire adult life working towards the goal of a man who saw her as no better than the people who had tortured her in that facility. That was what had caused her to fall so hard, to have her world burn so quickly.

His Grace had abandoned her. There was no way she could lie to herself about that. She felt one side of her demanding that she cast herself into the burning blue flame of his passion. But there was another side, one with a gentle warmth that sat on her shoulder, that offered something else. What it offered she didn't know. Maybe it was just a life raft until the sea of war smashed them both to pieces. Maybe it was just a roundabout way for her to die at His Grace's command. But maybe, just maybe, did the path offer her some form of salvation.

It was as all these thoughts swirled through her head that Selvaria did something that she had never done before. She let go, gave up holding any pretense of control, letting herself twist and fall into a waiting shoulder. "Johann…" she said with a sob, the first word she had spoken since her death had been decided muffled to near inaudibility, falling out of her mouth as a wave of emotion hit her, casting her from the rock of safety and into the unknown.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Johann had gotten to know his general rather well in the past few months, living and fighting side by side for weeks on end could do that to a person. But it was still a complete shock to him when she turned with a sob and buried her face in his shoulder. At first he didn't move, he was too shocked. But then his arms moved, wrapping themselves lightly around her as she cried into his shoulder.

There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do at that moment besides let her cry. That was all he had ever let himself do, was to be what she needed him to be. Before that had been a soldier, a friend. Now she needed someone that she could show her weak side to, so she could let it all out. So he did. He let her cry, arms holding her loosely despite his desire to sweep her closes and whisper that it was ok, that everything would be fine. That was not his place, not his role in their relationship. For he knew she loved another and as much as it hurt, he would be what she needed.

It was several minutes before her sobs slowed and finally ceased. But she didn't move away, didn't let go of her grip on him. It was hard for him, he was unsure of what he should do. There had been little physical contact between the two of them during the time he had known her, at least on this level. Equipment checks, ragnaid delivery, pats on the back or shoulder, those were easy, commonplace even. But something like this…

But as she lay there on his shoulder, he made a choice. It was a small one, just a simple move of his arms. But it would have consequences that he would have never guessed.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Selvaria felt the small movement of Johann's arms. At first she thought he was going to let go, give her space or perhaps push her away. But the shift brought her closer to him, his arms wrapping her tighter as she continued to lean on his chest and shoulder. It was here that she finally let herself believe that Johann wouldn't let go, wouldn't cast her aside like His Grace had because she had lost.

She felt herself calm as she was embraced, something which hadn't happened to her for longer than she could remember. It was such a small thing, a hug, just the simple act of putting your arms around someone. And she couldn't remember the last person who had done it to her. Yet he was, Johann was, just like he'd been her only friend. The only one who treated her like a person.

She didn't want to let go. She wanted to be warm and protected like this forever. But she couldn't. There were still things to be done, battles to be fought. But there was yet time, so she let her head rest on his shoulder for a while more, finally speaking.

"I'm not sure I can do it," she said, softly, eyes staring down at the floor, "I'm not sure I can keep going Johann. I can't do it by myself."

"You're not alone General," he replied, "I know I left you alone at Naggiar, but I promise I'll never let it happen again."

Selvaria felt herself snort, the first emotion to make its way through her besides sadness or despair being wry amusement. Johann had not left her alone. In fact, she had caught him arguing with the doctors on whether or not he could rejoin her on the front lines. He hadn't quieted until she made it an order. He had not been happy, not one bit but he had listened.

"You didn't leave me," she said, hand finding a tighter grip on his sleeve, "I ordered you to stay. You've never left me alone Johann."

"And I never will," he said, voice calm and steadying for her, "I promised you that."

There was silence for a few seconds before she spoke again. "If…if we don't stop the Gallians…"

"We will," he said with an absolute certainty that she knew he couldn't feel, "We'll stop them together, just like we always have."

She couldn't help herself, he made it sound so easy, so simple and matter of fact. They would stop the Gallians, that's all there was to it. It was ridiculous, so patently ridiculous that she let the small smile she felt creep onto her face. "I guess that's settled then," she said, still resting on his shoulder, "So should you go tell them that they're already defeated or should I?"

"I'll go," he said back lightheartedly, "You need to look your best for when you take their surrender."

She snorted one more time, before finally pulling herself away and looking Johann in the eyes. "Thank you," she said, taking his hand as they both stood, "Thank you for everything Johann."

"It was my pleasure General," he said, giving her a small salute, "Anytime."

Selvaria managed a small grin for him, before realizing that she still had tear streaks running down her face and that she was unpresentable to most of her troops. They needed to see her as the unflappable woman she had always been, otherwise they really had no hope for victory here, no hope for anything but that final flame…

"Johann I…" she started, before he nodded and saluted again.

"I understand General," he said, "I'll let you freshen up. I can go check the defenses for you in the meantime."

"Thank you," she said, glad to have her must capable subordinate back by her side. "What would I do without you?" she asked her longtime companion.

"I'm not sure ma'am," he said, lightly, "But I'm sure you'd muddle along somehow." With that final statement he saluted once more and headed out to help finish preparations. But even as he went, Selvaria couldn't help but think that Johann was wrong, that without him, she wouldn't be going anywhere.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	2. Chapter 2

Her Blue Flame Chapter 2

Johann nodded at the men holding the defensive barricades confirming that they were dug in as much as possible given the time constraints. He was on his way back from checking the scouts who were even further out. The scouts were in a good position, one group waiting behind a fortified position and the other hiding in one of the few thickets of foliage still around the area. It was unlikely they would remain hidden for long or be able to do much to stop the Gallian attack, but it would allow the Imperial troops enough of a warning to get into position in time.

Heading back towards Ghirlandaio, Johann began to wonder how long it would be before the Gallians attacked. They were eager for blood after finally having the Empire on the retreat, but there had been little evidence of proper preparation by their central army. That hadn't stopped them from commencing operations before, but it hopefully left the Empire enough time to dig their heels in behind Ghirlandaio's walls.

A voice at the back of his mind said it would also give him more time with the general, but he ignored that voice as best he could. Despite what had happened in the observation tower and despite what he had done for her, he knew that he would never come up with the courage to directly confront her with how he felt. Not before the invasion was over at least. He touched the letter that he kept in his breast pocket, the one that seemed to get thicker each time he sat down with it. He would never see it delivered and hopefully it never would, but if it did he hoped that it would bring her…something. Peace, calm, acceptance…he wasn't sure what he wanted her to get from it. Maybe nothing but the knowledge of what he felt, but in the end that was enough for him.

Almost back to the wall, Johann heard the sudden popping of small arms fire and the thunder of a tank cannon come from behind him, just in time for a few panicked transmissions to reach his ear.

"Gallian attack!" said the static-warped voice, "Unknown numbers of Gallian militia, unusually skilled! Two tanks, one standard model and one heavy, supported by at least a full squad of soldiers. Scouting party unable to pull back, will hold them as lon…" There was a wet thump over the line and then the transmission went dead.

Johann whirled around on his feet, darting back to a group of men that taken position at the foot of the outer wall. It looked like he wouldn't have time to report back to the General, he just hoped he survived to help her through it. "Status report!" he demanded from the squad's sergeant, a scarred man in charge of some pimply faced new recruits.

"Unknown number of enemies headed this direction," the man said, recognizing Johann or just responding to the authority in his voice, "no direct armor support, but there's a tank destroyer on our side of the killing ground. Five men not including you, all scouts with rifles. No grenade launchers, only a few hand grenades. We can get a little support from the walls, but snipers have been keeping our men off of them."

Johann swore under his breath. It seemed the shoe was on the other foot now, with the Gallians advancing under a hail of bullets and grenades while the Imperial forces scrounged about, trying to find the gear they had and get it out to the troops who needed it. But their logistics were spread thin even before Naggiar, and now it was nearly impossible to get everyone what they needed.

"Roger that," Johann replied as he dug himself a fighting position in the grass. "Have your men hold your fire until they're sure to hit. The Gallians hold the advantage in a long range fight."

The sergeant nodded, understanding the Gallian's ability to easily win long-range fights. While Imperial weapons generally had a much better kick and ability to kill at close range, the Gallians knew of this and stayed as far from Imperial weapons as possible. This allowed their scouts and engineers to pin the Imperials with fire they couldn't defend from, allowing the Gallian shock-troopers to move in for the kill. Hopefully the short firing ranges would allow the Imperial defenders a chance to even the odds this time.

It wasn't much longer before the firing reached a crescendo at the front, broken transmissions still coming through. "Enemy overwhelming the barricades," came a tank commander's transmission, "Unable to provide support, lancers incom…" a burst of static punctuated by an explosion.

"We're next…" whimpered one of the privates next to him.

"You aren't alone," Johann said to the boy, the reply more instinct than conscious choice, "Stick together, support each other and we'll get through this as best we can."

"Y-yes sir," the boy replied.

Johann nodded at the boy, the standard Imperial face covers obscuring the encouraging look on his face. Johann refocused himself waited for the inevitable to occur. It didn't take very long, only a couple minutes later and he was already hearing firing around the large earthen barriers. It seemed the militia was putting down a serious wall of cover so their engineers could clear the minefield. That meant that the flanking squad should be here any…

A dark haired head peeked around the corner, glasses flashing in the sun. Johann held his fire, but one of the new men didn't, letting loose a wide shot that completely exposed their position. The head jerked back from the whine of the bullet and four more Gallians ducked around the corner, all of them laying down a withering barrage of fire from their rifles. It wasn't very accurate, since they couldn't see him and his men directly, but they did know the general area they were in so it did the job.

In the time it took for the Gallians to empty their weapons, three shock-troopers had closed the distance. One of the men, more panicky than the rest, stood up in full view and was immediately gunned down by a hail of rounds. One of his men tried to take aim on the group, but was suddenly picked off, the loud crack in the air marking it a snipers shot. There was a brief pause in the Gallians fire as the shock-troopers paused to reload and the covering scouts and engineers refused to shoot without targets. This was their chance.

"Now!" he yelled, moving even as the words left his mouth.

Moving just enough so he could see the Gallians, he drew his Kar to his shoulder and centered on the first one he saw. That turned out to be one of the shock-troopers, a Darcsen girl. Personally he didn't really care much one way or the other about Darcsens, but in this case it didn't matter they were both soldiers, their job was to kill the other.

He fired until he emptied his rifle, watching as the first shot winged her arm and caused her to duck back into cover. He knew it was a superficial wound at best. The rest of his quick salvo missed, hitting the sandbags around her. The rest of his team's fire was equally ineffective, missing completely or at best causing light wounds.

But the Gallians took their time picking targets, making their return volley that much more accurate. The Gallian sniper killed another one of Johann's men, leaving him, the sergeant and a single soldier as a grenade landed next to them. The sergeant moved fast, jumping on the grenade. The explosion was only slightly muffled, his body landing with a wet slap as it bounced back to the ground. At this point, the remaining private sat quivering at the bottom of his trench as tears of fear streamed down his cheeks.

Johann knew it was only a matter of time before the Gallians advanced further, allowing them to root him out with a flamethrower or land a grenade directly into his hole. He waited for another chance and knew he was only going to get one. He reached down to his belt and prepped a grenade, readying it for the throw.

In his mind he apologized to General Bles. It looked like he wasn't going to give her that report after all. As the Gallians closed, he threw the grenade, causing them to scatter as he emptied his rifle at them once more. But these militia soldiers were better than the others, all of them clearing the grenades kill radius and only a few taking shrapnel wounds. He swore, struggling to reload his gun as a girl with remarkably curled hair turned the corner and aimed at him.

"Sorry if this hurts!" she yelled, her gun flashing as it fired.

"Sorry if this hurts?" he thought, "What a ridiculous thing to say." Her first shot hit him in the side, two more landing and the last two ricocheting off his armor. He fell on his back and heard the private start sobbing as he felt himself go into shock. He tried to move and reach either the ragnaid at his belt or his rifle, only a few inches from his fingers. But neither of his arms wanted to work, so he laid there and bled out in the dirt.

"This was not how I wanted to die," he thought, even as he heard Gallians approaching. He wasn't panicking or afraid of death, he'd made peace with that long ago. But he'd at least wanted to die by her side, fighting with her. Perhaps see her face one last time. But it looked like that wasn't going to happen. With one last groan, he rolled over, a hand flopping on top of the letter he had written to her. He hoped it would get to her somehow, not get taken as a prize by some Gallian militiaman.

The last thing he saw was a grey head of hair leaning over him.

"Gen…ral?" he choked out.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Selvaria had just finished cleaning herself up and preparing for battle when she heard the first explosion outside. Grabbing her Ruhm, she hurried down to the command room, where harried staffers scurried around.

"Situation report!" she demanded, drawing every eye in the room to her.

"Gallian attack," reported a captain, "It appears to be militia of unknown strength but they've already overwhelmed our forward defenses."

"What is the status of the remaining forces?" she asked, picking up the radio and listening to the sounds of static, explosions and conflicting reports.

"All being pushed back or destroyed in place," replied the captain, sweat appearing on his brow, "We can't seem to stop them."

Selvaria narrowed her eyes. If they were advancing with such ease, that left only one group that she knew of. The same militia squad that had been everywhere else the Empire had been pushed back.

"Where's Oswald?" she asked. She needed Johann here soon, for both the report he had, no matter how out of date it might have been, and for the simple fact that she needed him by her side if she was going to get through this battle. But the captain froze when she asked "Where is Oswald?" she repeated, eyes narrowing.

"He…he didn't make it back inside," the captain stammered, "the gate guards have no record of him returning from his inspection.

An icy fist hit Selvaria in her gut, her knees going weak from the shock. No, he couldn't be outside, he was coming back, he'd promised. He wasn't going to leave her, he'd promised to be by her side. Her emotions threatened to engulf her, the pain nearly as bad as when His Grace had told her to sacrifice herself. No, she couldn't, she couldn't break down in front of all her men. That would kill morale. As much as she…felt, for Oswald, she couldn't abandon the rest of her men.

"Thank you, Captain," she murmured, "Please inform me if he makes it inside."

"Y-yes Sir," the captain said, giving her a quick and nervous salute.

"What is the status of our forces inside the citadel?" she asked, turning to another officer.

"Forces inside the citadel are mobilized and starting to get in place to relieve those outside, but we would have to open the gates for that to be effective," said the officer, "Soldiers on the wall are being suppressed by heavy sniper fire and mortar shells."

"Have them take defensive positions inside the citadel," Selvaria decided, "We can't open the gates for any reason and if we can't hold the wall our men would get slaughtered."

"Yes ma'am," the officer said, giving her a brisk salute before turning to his own radio to issue the appropriate orders.

"Does anyone else have anything important for me?" she demanded from the crowd. No one spoke. "Then continue your duties.

With that she turned on her heel and marched out of the room. Striding down the hallway, Selvaria glanced both ways to make sure she was alone before turning and punching the wall, a loud crack echoing through the air. Looking down at her hand, Selvaria saw it wreathed in blue flame, the stone she hit cracked in a spider-web pattern. Bringing her hand up to her face, she watched the flame of the Valkyrur as it swirled about, patterns dancing in and out of existence.

She hated it, hated the blue flame with every fiber of her being. Every day at that facility she had been bathed in the light. Nearly everything horrible that had happened to her could be blamed on the fact that she could control the blue flame. Even his Grace throwing her away like he had was because of it. She struck the wall again, making the stone wall crumble.

The only thing good it had ever brought her was Johann. If she hadn't been here at Ghirlandaio, hadn't been charged with leading the attack, if she hadn't developed the hate she had for the flame, she wouldn't have met him. That was the only thing that she could think of that she had gotten from the accursed powers she had. But even now, that was gone. Johann was outside the walls and there was nothing she could do for him. The only thing she had left to her was her duty to His Grace, so she would do that to the best of her ability.

Selvaria went back to walking down the hallway, leaving only a cracked wall behind her.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Edy Nelson looked down at the badly wounded Imperial scout who had spoken to her, wondering why he had thought she was a general. Looking over the man, he was dressed in a better than average uniform, one of the ones they gave out to officers or their elite troops.

Susie Evans walked up next to her, clutching her rifle tightly. "Is…is he…?"

Edy leaned down, placing a finger on the man's neck to check and see if he still had a pulse. It was there, but weak, and if his rapid blood loss was any indication, he wouldn't be for long unless he got some help.

"Not yet," Edy said. She glanced over to Salinas who was tying up the remaining soldier. They didn't have much time to take prisoners, but Welkin would never allow field executions, even for Imps. Thankfully that wasn't a problem for most and he'd learned to keep an eye on Jane.

"We…we should…save him," said Suzy, reaching down for the man's ragnaid.

"Hold it," said Edy, raising a hand. Reaching down, she moved the man's arm and pulling out an envelope.

Even covered in blood, Edy could see it was a nice envelope,, much too nice for the average soldier. Flipping it over, she looked for clues about its sender or intended receiver.

Edy's breath caught. The back of the envelope read "General Bles."

"HOMER!" she shouted, turning to see the stooped blonde boy right behind her.

"Yeah?" he said.

"Fix him," she yelled, pointing at the wounded man at her feet, "Fix him right now!"

Lynn came up behind the trio after getting her arm looked at by Karl. "Edy, what are you doing?" she asked her voice soft, "We don't have time for this, we need to keep moving."

"This guy is my prisoner!" said Edy, turning and waving the letter under her nose, "He's got a letter to the enemy general and is dressed up like one of their elite's so he's probably got all sorts of juicy information. When we get it all and it allows us to defeat the Empire it will finally prove that I am better than Rosie!"

Lynn grabbed the letter out of Edy's hand despite her protests. Opening the envelope, she unfolded the letter and began reading, briefly. After only a few lines she immediately folded it up and put it back into the envelope.

"What did the letter say?" she asked Lynn, "Force disposition, battle plans, a secret entrance into Ghirlandaio made only after the Imps invaded?"

"No," said Lynn, putting the envelope in one of her pockets, "nothing like that."

"Then what did it say?" asked Edy, "And what are you doing with my letter."

"It's his letter," said Lynn as one of the medics came up, checking the man alongside Homer, "And it's none of our business, it's a personal letter. I'm going to keep it until he wakes up."

"Lynn…" started Edy in her usual demanding manner.

"No Edy," said the Darcsen girl, "Not this time. Now let's go, they're almost to the gate on Rosie's side."

"What," said Edy, immediately darting forward, "Why didn't you tell me that before!"

Lynn glanced at the wounded man, who was now being taken to the back for proper care. She'd keep his letter for him until he got better. If he didn't, she'd deliver it herself.

She turned and dashed after Edy, who was likely to get herself shot if she ran off alone.

Again.


	3. Chapter 3

Her Blue Flame Chapter 3

Selvaria Bles stood on what should have been the frontal battlements of Ghirlandaio, listening as the sounds of war drifted over her, reaching a crescendo outside the front gate and then suddenly stopping. It wouldn't be long now before the Gallians breached the gates of Ghirlandaio; a citadel that they had hoped would protect them from the might of the Empire but instead looked to be their final obstacle to victory. She knew that it wouldn't be that easy for them, she knew what was coming if they achieved victory here. She would not let that victory come easily.

"General the Gallians…" started a nearby aide.

"I know," she said, having already deduced what was about to happen, "Everyone who is not a combatant inside now."

Most of the staffers began to file inside, only one or two looking recalcitrant.

"Go, now," she said to them, "I do not need you underfoot when the Gallians breach the walls."

With a few meek nods the remaining staffers hurried into the comparatively safe walls of Ghirlandaio.

"All forces take cover and brace for impact!" she called out, nearby officers repeating the order down the line until it reached all of her troops.

Selvaria took cover herself. It wouldn't be long until the Gallians…

A massive explosion shook Ghirlandaio, even its solid construction quivering under such a blast. The main gates exploded inwards, the majority of the blast being focused on the comparatively weak point in the wall. Shrapnel and bits of debris flew far, some managing to pass over the walls in both directions. The main portion simply collapsed into a pile in front of the opening in the walls, unfortunately providing plenty of cover for the Gallians to advance under.

"Report! I want casualty reports immediately!" she cried. There was not much time until the Gallians breached the gate, but there was just enough to move men where needed if she'd lost any. Thankfully that proved not to be the case, the last reports coming in just as the Gallian's advanced wave did. In the lead was the tank that had led defeat after Imperial defeat.

"Hold fire!" she called out to her own troops, stepping out of cover as the Gallians began entering the citadel. Holding her Ruhm at the ready she called out to the leader, his face unmistakable even without the tank he rode in.

"Proud warriors of Gallia, I must commend you. You have breached Ghirlandaio's gates!" Her sudden call made the lead group stop and stare up at her, the momentary ceasefire holding.

"Look up there, the Valkyria," a voice from below drew Selvaria's eyes. The Gallian Valkyria stood before her once more, this time without the blue flame around her. She carried only a rifle in her hands marking her determination to fight.

Selvaria wanted to hate the girl, wanted to foist all of the blame of her fall onto the Gallian. She couldn't, not any more than she hated the rest of the Gallian's for fighting against her.

"We meet again," she said softly, "It looks like fate is toying with us." She raised her voice again so that they all could hear her. "You have already defeated me once, as a Valkyria," she said, "Still, I have come to fight you again. It is a matter of pride. But this time, I will face you as a woman."

Whose pride it was she did not know. It wasn't Imperial pride, as she had no love for the Empire as a whole. It could have been the waning pride she still held as Maximillian's blade. It could have been her personal pride. Pride born from regret, anger, discipline… or loss. She would not let Johann down without a fight. Could not let him down after what he had done. She would fight to the end of her strength and if that wasn't enough, then and only then would she use the final flame.

"This is going to be our last time then," she continued, "One of us is going to die here!" She raised the Ruhm and pointed it at the Gallians. "Now! We fight!"

She had meant it when she said that one of them would die here. She would not give up and she knew the Gallians' wouldn't either. She would show no mercy in combat like she had at other times. Her men wouldn't either; they knew what was at stake.

In the end it didn't matter. Her resolve proved no match for the Gallian Militia. She would have said it was a sight to see, except for the fact that she spent most of the battle dodging smoke rounds from the enemy commander. She could only be in one place at a time and try as she might she could not stay away from the young Lieutenant Gunther.

Every time she moved he followed her, his take surprisingly mobile despite its size. Smoke shells always landed near her, blinding her instead of attempting to kill her with badly aimed shots. It was frustrating beyond belief, not being able to do anything as her men were pushed back and killed by a militia force that seemed unstoppable.

What armor she'd had left was taken out by lancers who knew precisely where to aim. Covering fire provided by enemy shock troopers allowed snipers and scouts to advance on both sides, taking out her men in groups and singly. Engineers took care of every mine and obstacle placed in their path. Every time she managed to get a shot, the Gallians would take cover, diving like moles into whatever nook or cranny they could find. If she covered one side, the other side moved. When she was blinded, both rushed forward, trusting in their comrades. Every time she turned the Gallians were at least one step ahead of her and her men.

By the time they had cleared the stairs and re-activated the elevators her troops were starting to lose hope. Gallian snipers seemed to take out any many who stuck his head above cover. Those who waited only lasted minutes longer as flamethrowers and grenades followed close behind. Still they fought, tenaciously and often to the last men. The Gallians took casualties, though they always seemed to rush them back behind the lines before any serious harm could come to them.

As the jaws of the Militia pincer pushed closer, more flooded in behind the lead elements. These were clean up forces, pushing into mostly cleared areas to capture survivors or finish off any remaining pockets of resistance.

Soon she found herself surrounded, only a few of her men remaining on their feet.

"Not yet… I haven't… lost this yet," she said, her breath gasping as she dealt with wounds and battle fatigue, "Heed me men of the Empire, on my orders heal your wounds! Fight with pride, strong to the bitter end!"

Her men took heart in this, ragnaid being deployed without thought to later usage. Some got back on their feet, others steadied as temporary pains were lessened. It did not last, despite her best efforts.

The last of her armor was destroyed, taken out by a flurry of enemy lances. One by one the remaining men around her fell to wounds, until only she was left. Surrounded, outnumbered and outgunned she attempted to hold the line, but in the end she failed.

Her Ruhm clattered to the ground as Selvaria fell to her knees, the enemy Valkyria… no the enemy woman stood in front of her, rifle trained.

"You have defeated me, it is over," she said through panting breaths, her body pushed almost to the end of its endurance.

"I need to ask you…" said the woman, even as other members of the militia began to tend to the wounded, theirs and hers alike, "Tell me, how do you live as a Valkyria? How do you deal with the weight of that all the time?"

Selvaria was silent for several seconds, thoughts rushing through her mind. How had she lived as a Valkyria? Could she even say she had lived? She knew almost nothing of life beyond her service to Maximillian, time spent almost exclusively fighting for a man who did not love her the way she had him. Other thoughts rushed through her mind, those of a warm hand, a soft smile and strong arms wrapped around her.

"I fought because… I loved him," she finally said, no longer sure who she was referring to. Even if she hadn't realized it before, even if she only had it for the moment she could… no, he was gone. They both were.

"And what drove you to take up the lance?" she asked the Gallian woman, taking her feet slowly.

"It wasn't voluntary," said the woman quietly, "The truth is, I never became one because I wanted to. And even now, I… I still don't know what to do. It confuses me, it scares me."

How those words struck home in Selvaria. She had never truly wanted to become a Valkyria. She hated the blue flame and what it had cost her. She had only taken it up because Maximillian had ordered her and now… now it would be her end. Done in by the thing she hated most in life by a man whom she had once loved more than life itself.

"I see…" she said in response to the woman, "You bear a heavy burden without the aid of purpose. So I was defeated… by a girl without commitment to a cause."

"Freeze right there war witch!" came a voice from the night. Selvaria was suddenly surrounded by over a dozen Gallian soldiers, regulars by their uniforms.

"Hands up, no funny business!" came the gravelly and imperious voice.

Selvaria raised her hands to her head, only to be struck from behind with the butt of a rifle. Injured as she was she fell to the ground, her body laid out on the cold stone.

"Bah ha ha ha ha," came the same voice from behind her, "We finally bagged a Valkyria, good work."

Unkind thoughts flowed through Selvaria's rattled mind; the man had done nothing to capture her. All credit for that went to the militia, whom she saw glancing with distaste at those surrounding her.

"General," came another male voice, this one softer, much more familiar to her as well, "There was no call for violence. She had surrendered!" It was the Gunther boy, the one who had truly defeated her. Two more militia members ran up with him, a red haired shock trooper and a burly lancer. Both looked to be senior non-coms and both clearly looked to him for guidance. So did the Valkyria, a look of relief coming onto her face. As well as… no, she was likely imagining things. Her own mind running wild with what might have been.

"Watch your mouth! Impertinent peasant," continued the man, whom Selvaria no recognized as the Gallian General Damon, the same one who had lost this citadel in the first place… and gassed her.

"She uses evil magic, she's dangerous!" said Damon, as if he hadn't cheered Gallia's own Valkyria when she was defeated at Naggiar, "The only way I'm comfortable with her is when she's unconscious!"

Selvaria knew from experience how to deal with men like Damon and she wanted… no she needed to know that she had done everything she could for her troop's sakes.

"Please Lord General in the name of mercy I beg you," she said, her voice feeble only partially from acting.

"Huh?" said Damon, his eyes glancing down at her in the manner of one looking at an insect or other unpleasant thing, "Alright then, out with it."

"Do with me what you will," she said, her heart and mind already resigned on what would happen to her, "I ask only one thing. Spare the lives of the men you've taken captive. Spare them… and let the militia escort them to their fate."

Selvaria knew that the Gallian militia, for all its reputation as being the lesser of the two Gallian forces, more often than not took better care of its prisoners than the regular army. Not to mention with Gunther in control or nearby there would be nothing to worry about for her men.

"Hmph, good idea," said Damon, "Rats escorting rats, sounds like a perfect match."

Selvaria wanted to laugh at his statement. Rats? Neither of the groups he had mentioned were rats. Damon was a rat. The militia had proved themselves to be lions, worthy of respect and honor. Her men were the same. They may have been bested, but they had fought with honor to the end.

"Stand up witch," said one of the Gallian regulars as two of them grabbed her up off the ground roughly. She cried out in surprise and pain as the movements aggravated her wounds.

She raised her head to the Gallian Valkyria, idly noticing that a few more of the militia had gathered near their commander, troopers by the looks of them, including a Darcsen that was staring at her intently. No matter. Her life was almost at an end.

"I have found the purpose to justify my life. I don't think there's much chance we'll be meeting again," she said to the Valkyria, "That said, I'll admit I am curious. When the time comes to make a choice, what cause will your life finally serve?"

The Gallian woman's eyes went wide, even as she took a step towards Selvaria. A slight glance behind her, towards Gunther… perhaps she wasn't imagining things after all.

"Farewell," she said as she was pulled away by the regulars, Damon's voice echoing through the air.

"Bah ha ha! A glorious victory! Send word to Randgriz immediately. Tell them that Damon has taken Ghirlandaio!" he said to a nearby aide.

As Selvaria was frog marched back with the regulars she saw the Gallian woman turn towards Gunther once more. If she truly wasn't imagining things then the girl had dedicated herself to a cause. Perhaps unconsciously, but she had. Selvaria sighed internally, her mind fleeting over what had already happened and what might have been… along with what never would. Her fate had been decided now. His Grace had decreed her sacrifice and Johann… Johann wasn't there to save her anymore.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Unbeknownst to Selvaria at that very moment a groan echoed through a militia medical tent. While supplies were always tight when army quartermasters doled out to the militia, they had their own ways of making due. Those ways had seen the groaning man's life saved. He was no longer dressed in his once fine uniform, the torn and bloody garment having been thrown away by the doctors and medics who had saved him.

Out of his armor and bulky gear the man wasn't all that striking, his body wiry instead of muscular and no taller than average. The wit and warmth that the man carried were nowhere to be seen, his body ravaged by bullets and not enough time recovering from prior injuries. He was alive though, alive and not likely to perish of his wounds as long as proper care was taken. For the most outstanding thing about him, his iron will to survive, still remained even as he lay unconscious.

A blonde haired medic came to check on the man as he groaned, her face the same as two others that were nearby.

"Is he alright Fina?" asked her sister Mina.

"He's as well as we can make him given the supplies Mina," said Fina in return, "We still haven't treated all our casualties so we can't give him any more ragnaid."

"If only the army wasn't so stingy," said Gina the third sister, "It's not as if they have a whole lot of wounded to deal with today."

"Don't worry," said Mina quietly, "I asked Audrey and Ramona to go get some more ragnaid for us."

Gina glanced at her sister and then looked to Fina. Fina shook her head. It wasn't as if they hadn't done it before and they needed all the ragnaid they could get if they didn't want to lose any wounded.

"Just make sure it doesn't get back to us," said Fina.

"I know," said Mina, "With all of the wounded Imps we're getting we should be getting more anyway."

"Hopefully," said Fina, "I'll be back, I need to go tell Lynn the prisoner is going to make it."

"Right," said Gina, "Be back soon."

Fina nodded to her sisters and headed out of the tent. She didn't know why Lynn was so concerned about the man, but she'd promised to let the Darcsen girl know as soon as she could. Hopefully whatever was so important was worth the time.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Carrying a small tray of rations with both hands, Lynn strode through the halls of Ghirlandaio with only one destination in mind. It hadn't been terribly hard to find out where the Valkyria was being kept. All of the regular army troops, the ones who were still awake at least, were talking about how she had been taken to the cells under the citadel to await Damon's call. Luckily since it was late at night there were few people around and even less who wanted to bother a lone Darcsen militia girl who looked like she was on a mission.

Reaching the holding cells Lynn discovered that they were nearly deserted. Only one sleepy looking guard was outside, nodding off next to an open door. He barely stirred as she walked up, catching a glance of the food and then waving her in with only a grumble. Inside was similar, except the three men were all completely asleep instead of dozing. One was passed out on a cot in an open cell, while the other two snored in chairs around a table.

It was a frankly disturbing situation given that the enemy Valkyria was supposed to be in one of the cells, but it made Lynn's mission that much easier. Making her way down the cells Lynn finally discovered why the men outside were sleeping so soundly. The Valkyria was on a cot in the farthest cell, one of her ankles wrapped in an iron anklet that was attached to the stone wall of her cell. Along with the handcuffs she wore it didn't look like she could do anything at all, much less harm soldiers who could likely hear her if she tried to escape. If they were awake at least.

At first glance it appeared like the Valkyria was asleep, but she stirred as Lynn approached the bars. Lynn stopped as the woman sat up, her red eyes focusing on the Darcsen girl.

"You," said Selvaria, recognizing the girl from earlier that night, "You were with Gunther and the others on the wall." She frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought you some food," said Lynn, setting down the tray of rations and pushing it up against the bars.

Selvaria glanced at the food, which was standard Gallian combat rations and hardly what she would consider a fitting last meal. However she was hungry so she moved from her cot and picked up the lukewarm meal as Lynn watched her. The fact that the woman had even bothered to warm it in the first place spoke volumes about the difference between Gunther's people and the regular army.

Selvaria smelled the food before she took a spoonful. It was no worse than imperial rations at least. She looked at the Darcsen girl as she calmly chewed the minimum amount of times necessary and then swallowed so it all went down as fast as possible.

"You are not her only to give me food, are you?" she asked, her tone slightly curious. Why the Darcsen girl was here she had no idea. While the hatred of Darcsens in the Empire was essentially institutionalized, Selvaria herself had never gone on hunts, mostly because Maximillian had her doing other more important things. It was possible the girl held some grudge from the war, someone she was close to wounded or killed but there would have been no kindness then, just anger.

"No, no I'm not," said Lynn, reaching into her jacket to pull out the letter. She held it out to Selvaria through the bars. "This is for you."

Selvaria frowned and then took the letter. Where would a Gallian militia member have gotten a letter from her? They almost assuredly had no agents like that, especially not any Darcsen ones. Looking at the label on the letter she pulled out the several sheets inside and began reading.

As she read the first line she instantly she understood, her mind not registering what the Darcsen woman said to her.

"General Bles, I hope this letter never reaches but if it does know that I have fallen in battle."

She understood what the letter was and who it was from even as her eyes flitted over the words written on the paper. Certain snips stood out to her, even as she devoured the whole thing.

"Know that I have never regretted a moment of my service to you."

How could he have written such a thing? Why had he?

"I cannot know for sure how you see me and it is not my place to ask."

Oh Johann why, why did you?

"However in my passing I will take the liberty to say…"

What… no no he couldn't…

"… that I have come to have feeling for you over these months."

Tears came to her face, even as the buzzing sound of the other woman's voice faded to nothing.

"These feelings are not appropriate between officer and subordinate but I can no longer deny them even to myself."

He could have told her, could have… no, he couldn't have. Even as they grew close Johann had always respected certain boundaries. Especially given her previous feelings he never would have…

"If nothing else about this letter matters to you General then know this, I care about you. I care about Selvaria Bles, not as a General or a Valkyria, but simply the kind, warm woman I have come to know over these precious months."

Her heart nearly broke into pieces at that. Johann was the only one who'd ever expressed such sentiments to her. The only thing she'd ever wanted in life had been so close to her but now…

"Do with this letter as you would, but know that you go with my love Selvaria, however you with to take it. With eternal devotion, Johann Oswald Eisen."

Selvaria fought down the sobs that threatened to escape from her. She wouldn't let the other woman see her like that, couldn't let the guards hear her. Why? Why did life have to be so cruel to her? At least it had seen fit to let the letter get to her in the end. She would take it with her, knowing that she had accomplished what she wished for, even if it was much too late…

She forced her eyes dry, wiping them shortly before looking up at the Darcsen woman. She'd been getting much too emotional lately but under the circumstances.

"Thank you for bringing me this letter," she said, her voice slightly hoarse, "Where did you… how did you know it was important?"

"One of my friends found it," Lynn said, "I read the first few lines." She paused and looked a hair embarrassed. "I have someone close to me as well. It sounded like something he would write."

"How… how did he?" asked Selvaria, dreading the answer but needing to know.

"Didn't you hear me?" said Lynn, causing Selvaria to blink in confusion.

"No, I'm sorry," said Selvaria, "Did you already mention…"

"He's alive," said Lynn, "He's wounded but we took him prisoner and the medics said he was stable."

Selvaria felt another hammer blow hit her psyche. At first it was simply shock. She couldn't believe it. Johann was? But he…

As the shock wore off confusion came. If Johann was alive then... then what? She'd already accepted the fact that she was going to die, but if Johann was alive then maybe… maybe there was another option.

But what exactly? There was no way that Maximillian would fail to notice Ghirlandaio still standing and if he won the war or even simply, she would have no safe place to go. She could still go, still do what he had asked her and die knowing she was loved. But she couldn't die knowing Johann would carry a torch for her his entire life without knowing how she had felt…

As her emotions finally began to sort themselves out all she was certain of was one thing. She needed to see Johann. Even if he wasn't awake she needed to see him one more time.

"Please…" she said, looking up once more at the Darcsen girl before suddenly stopping. There was likely no way to convince the girl to let her out of her cell. She certainly wouldn't let someone like her out only to see a wounded man, no matter what the circumstances. "Please…" she said once more, "Tell him… tell him that I received his letter. Tell him that… that I return the feelings inside and I regret not being able to tell him myself."

Lynn couldn't help but feel for the woman, the emotions she tried to keep in check were still visible. It hit her most as she realized that the Valkyria hadn't told the man herself, possibly hadn't even known until she read the letter.

"He doesn't know how you feel, does he?" she asked, "He has no idea you feel the same way."

Selvaria glanced to the letter and then back up to the girl. "No," she said softly, "He has no idea. He wouldn't even let himself think like that." She paused, forcing herself to look the woman in the eye. "I didn't even truly know myself until a short while ago."

Lynn nodded. "I know what it's like to be uncertain that someone loves you."

"Do you know what it's like to be unable to see them when they're hurt?" asked Selvaria, "To know you may never see them again?"

"It's why I'm in the militia at all," said Lynn, her voice full of conviction, "Karl, my love, was wounded in an operation. I got word when I was in hiding and then… I had to be by his side. So I joined, even though I didn't know how to fight."

Selvaria looked at the woman in front of her, wearing her shock trooper uniform so casually, full of confidence like the rest of Gunther's squad.

"You learned quickly for his sake," said Selvaria.

"He taught me," said Lynn, "And now I can support him in combat just like he supports me."

"He sounds like a good man," said Selvaria, remembering how Johann learned in leaps and bounds. Only know she realized it was all likely for her.

"He is," said Lynn, "Yours must be too, if that letter is any indication."

"He is…" said Selvaria, her heart aching, "He is the only one who ever loved me."

Lynn couldn't help but stare as the utter heartbreak in the other woman's voice came out. She looked back towards the guards.

"You want to see him, don't you?" she asked the Valkyria.

"Of course," said Selvaria, "Unfortunately there is no militia for me to join to see him." She looked at Lynn once more. "It seems you are luckier than me in that regard Gallian."

"What if there was?" asked Lynn, a thought coming to her mind.

"What?" asked Selvaria, her face scrunching in confusion.

"What if there was a way for you to see him?" asked Lynn, turning to face Selvaria once more, "What would you do?"

"Anything," said Selvaria, her eyes locked onto the Darcsen woman's face.

"Swear on your… no. Swear on his life that you won't do anything and I'll try to let you see him," said Lynn.

"I…" said Selvaria, the words catching in her throat. What if this was all some elaborate trap? Some ruse to get her defenses down? The woman had seemed honest, but… In the end it didn't matter. If she had some chance to see Johann then she had to take it.

"I swear," she said, "I swear on his life, my own and my honor that I will not attempt to escape or harm anyone if you should allow me to see him."

Despite everything, despite the slight temptation to escape, it was the most solemn oath she'd ever given.

Lynn nodded after Selvaria finished speaking.

"Alright," she said, her voice soft, "I believe you." She looked back to the guards. "Give me some time, but I promise I'll be back to take you to see him."

"Thank you," said Selvaria, a sigh coming out of her, "I never thought I would thank a Gallian for letting me out of prison."

"Lynn, my name is Lynn," she said, holding out her hand to the bars.

"Selvaria," she said, reaching her own manacled hand out to take Lynn's, "Thank you Lynn."

"You can thank me later," said Lynn as they shook hands, "Until I get you out of here it's only words."

Selvaria nodded as their hands parted, listening as the Darcsen… Lynn, moved down the hallway from her cell. She lay down on her cot and clutched the letter to her chest. She would not fret, either Lynn would come back or she wouldn't, that was all there was to it. Until she knew which, she would lay there and savor the knowledge of Johann's love.

AN: Well, here's another chapter. Hope all of you who read it enjoy. Any comments/critiques would be very welcome. Till next time!


End file.
